Blur In Vision
by oneamsoundstage
Summary: Red is all I see. Red is what I am now.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1—

Tick. Tock.

The leather texture imprints itself on the lines in the palm in the palm of my hand as I grip it harder. Sweat breaks through the skin. I find myself slightly perspired. Be cool. Be calm. Be collected. Be unfazed.

Who the fuck am I kidding?

With one swift movement, I throw the camera out the window. Loaded with film, with memories, with the past. Nothing can contain her. I certainly have learnt not to do so any longer. _It is beyond my control._

Fuck it.

I stare at the glass shards lying on the ground. A moment ago, it was connected. And something clicks in me. Snaps. And I run.

I start tearing through my darkroom. Red is all I see. Red is what I am now. I rip every ounce of memory I have of her. _It is beyond my control._

Fucking bitch.

My fingers feel the glossiness of recent photos, of old ones, of long buried ones as I let the red take over my fingertips. Fuck you. Fuck the both of you. To think you were naïve enough to hope. Well fuck that.

Memory after memory start disappearing before me. Evidence of moments are now fucked up. Like the two of us. It was never meant to stick.

I grab a nearby box and start throwing every single frame I have of the two of us, the ones I deemed important and shoved them in. The hinges come off the door as I head back into my room and throw them in my fireplace. Red comes forth on the paper after a few seconds and I set to work on my bed.

I frantically tear the sheets off, the comforter, the pillow, the pillowcases. Every fucking thing. I make a gigantic mess, light a match and throw it.

I turn to my shelves and zone in the middle one. Machines, those goddamn tools that took all those goddamn photos. I loved them, took care of them, made sure I would murder whoever took them from me. They were a cathartic sanctuary for me, ignited power and control in my veins whenever I held one. I could no longer feel my fondness for them. All I felt was anger and betrayal. Fuck it.

I shoved them all off of their places onto the floor.

And just then my door opens and I see her. She takes a look around at the chaos I've created and dares to speak.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"What the fuck do you think I'm doing you little whore?! Get the fuck out of my room."

I can tell she's livid but I don't give a fuck. She doesn't move, doesn't move a muscle and stares at me.

"Fine, have it your way. I'll leave. I can't stand to be in the same room as you. You disgust me." I muster with as much malice as I can at this point. The energy was quickly draining out of my system.

I stride towards her direction and almost make it to my escape when she stops me with her hand on my chest.

"Sebastian, don't leave."

I grimace before pure red takes over my eyes.

"It is beyond my control."

--


	2. Chapter 2

Fucking hell. I completely forgot to put this in the first chapter. I do not own Cruel Intentions or its characters. Just the ones that I create on my own. There.

* * *

**Chapter 2—**

He shoves past me and I wait for the distant slam from the entrance of the penthouse. Once I hear his departure, I immediately call for everyone in the house to stop the goddamn fires he created in his haste. They all come running in like mice and I quickly hurry my way into his darkroom. He's ripped away every goddamn thing. FUCK.

The film. He cut the film up into pieces. Bastard.

I side-step the photo paper lying all over the ground and begin feeling the floor. Liquid meets my touch and I find my dress begin to feel heavier at the hems. What the fuck. He poured chemical all over the fucking floor?! My motions quicken as I try to find the hidden floorboard. Goddamn you Sebastian.

The broken line finally crosses my fingertips and I lift. Tiny drops of chemical have already managed its way through the crack and begun to slightly seep into the box. I quickly pick up what I hid and make my way out of the room.

Water and people were everywhere as they tried to contain the mess he created. I didn't give a fuck as long as I got what I needed.

As I tip-toed around, I noticed his cameras lying on the floor. Broken. He broke his fucking cameras. I immediately notice the Hasselblad I bought him. It cost me a fucking fortune to get it for him and there it was, looking as if a war went through its lens and caused it to combust from within.

I drop the box and grab the remains. Pushing whoever was in my way as I got to the window, I pulled back and threw it out. And everything blurred after that.

---

"_Sebastian…" she hisses at him._

_He only smirks in response and continues staring ahead._

"_Sebastian, I mean it. Release my ass this instant. What if mother turned around and saw you feeling me up."_

_His hands moved upward and his index finger started tracing its way up her spine._

_She gasped a split second and caught herself right before the photographer took their photo._

---

_Legs tangled in an inhumane way, she looked at him again, momentarily forgetting she was trying to escape the bind he held her in. Taking her hand up, she slowly caressed his cheeks and ran her fingers through his hair. Mine. All mine. She smirked at the thought. And suddenly a thought struck her._

_Lightly moving his arm away from her midriff, she stretched her upper body and reached for the camera on his nightstand. Only a centimeter away. She growled and pushed a little further until she was able to grab it. The camera in her hands, she worked to set it up for the lighting in the room and depth. He wasn't the only person that knew how to work a camera._

_Moving back towards him, she touched his forehead with hers, placed her free hand to the back of his head, and whispered something indistinctive as she took a photo from above._

---

Carefully place the film right in the middle. I move up to catch the light on the other side and move it ever so slightly to the right. Re-developing everything is a fucking pain in the ass. My nerves take over and one of my hands or arms involuntarily juts out from time to time. The intensity of being a master at this is taking its toll on me. But I digress.

As I move the film through that black film holder or whatever the damn thing is called, a memory clouds over my focus.

_Her legs dangle freely as she sits on the counter. Blackness surrounds her. She opted not to turn on the light, wanting to surprise him. The sound of footsteps reach her ears and she countdowns in her head. 4, 3, 2,…_

_He flicks the red light on and suddenly red replaces black._

_She watches him for a while. The rhythm he's mastered from years of doing this, like forming memories to the surface was an easy thing he could just easily breeze through._

_She has lost all traces of reality and certainty as she stares openly, occasionally double-checking to see if she was still in the darkness of his vision._

_With his back turned once more, she decides to startle him._

"_Hello Sebastian."_

_His whole body immediately stiffens and she can feel the moment his heart becomes irregular. He never could anticipate when she struck._

_He turns around as he addresses her._

"_Jesus, how long have you been there?"_

"_Too long if you ask me. But what's a girl to do?"_

_He chuckles and she smirks. It's like clockwork, motions. They react without thought. She was advised against this but fuck it. Who the fuck cared if the other was an equal in every sense of the word?_

_His quick strides brings him standing between her legs. Leaning in until his lips were lightly touching her ear, he retorts._

"_Bitch is more like it, sis."_

_She smacks him and he laughs._

---

It's dizzying, thinking like this. Contemplating like this. Coming up with different ways of looking at this. The ceiling slightly spins under my scrutiny. A sigh escapes and I rush off my bed to my vanity.

I look like shit. And everything begins to cloud again. I scream and let the pain consume me. I let the blood rush to my fingertips and I hit. I throw. I slam. The adrenaline drives me as I tear through my room. It was never supposed to go this way. I'm beginning to lose myself in this destruction. I'm beginning to lose myself between reality and still images. I can't tell the difference. I need to snap out of this. Someone please bitch slap me across the face. I'd welcome the pain.

---

"Kathryn…" someone whispers.

My eyes fly open. My heart rate intensifies and I sit up.

POUND.

I turn wildly around to pinpoint where this voice was coming from.

As I begin to relax my shoulder blades, it comes again.

"Kathryn…"

POUND.

Goddamn it, am I hallucinating now?

I let my arms drift back onto the bed and close my eyes again.

"Kathryn…" 

"_What asshole? I'm trying to sleep here. Leave me alone."_

_Shove, flick the middle finger, throw the pillow over head._

"_Kathryn…"_

_Her voice is muffled as she says her retort and he inquires on what she said._

_Slightly moving her head to the side, her head pokes out by an inch and anger is clearly etched on her face._

"_Either shut the fuck up and sleep next to me in silence or get your motherfucking ass off my bed and out of my room or so help me Sebastian, I will fuck you up so badly you won't be able to utter a word for weeks."_

"_I just…"_

"_UGH… goddamn it. Fine, what is so goddamn important that you're waking me up at," she takes a pause to glance at the clock and fire is obviously re-ignited, "3:30am in the morning!"_

_He takes a hold of her hand and gives her a squeeze._

"_I just wanted to see if you were real, if I was actually here. That you were still you and wouldn't want to snuggle into me like some stupid debutante."_

_She looked offended for a split second. Then it passed and a smile started creeping in and she squeezed his hand back._

"_Alright, get the fuck out of my room and go sleep in your own bed. You're staring to sicken me."_

_With that, she promptly kicked him off the bed and wrapped all the sheets around her tiny body. Outraged cussing could clearly be heard from the floor but she simply just smirked and started drifting off back to sleep._

_Right._

_Like things were really that simple around there._

POUND.

* * *

S: Enjoy. You seem to be the only one. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3--

_Gasp Oh god. Right there._

Make the pounding stop.

One step at a time. Don't fall. Don't you dare fucking fall.

_Tangled limbs. Hair grabbing. Constant screaming. Constant bliss._

Sway. Thump. I'm thrashing in the air.

_His fingers intertwine with hers in the afterglow._

My hands grab onto a metal knob. I sit hoping the lack of movement on my parts slows down the pounding. No luck. With whatever strength I have left I propel upwards and open the door. Pitch black. Like my heart.

_In the unconscious world, she does not embody evil and he does not reflect her. Guard down with no control, her head is nuzzled into the crook of his neck. Finding the peace within. Dwelling on the now. His fingers softly graze down her face. I love you does not begin to define what they feel for the other. It's an understatement not worthy of them. Feelings do not coincide with words._

I need you. Come back to me.

Blackout.

---

Photos encase a flitting moment. Preserving an emotion, action, anything. Evoking something within us. They're also a chronicle of history. Somewhere neutrality can exist in that you wouldn't be able to find somewhere else. Yes, the perspective of the photographer at hand can be biased but they don't always have total control of what they end up capturing.

I don't know where Sebastian and I went wrong. Maybe we were both too deluded to notice that the bliss between us was slowly crumbling before our eyes. Living an illusion. Living in a perfect, framed photo. Looking back at the few photos that were taken (seeing as how it would be totally irrational and illogical if one of us whipped out a camera right in the middle of a serious heated argument), I can grasp the loose pieces that caused such destruction. Being two of a kind can have its limitations.

---

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

---

Flash. Lights flash everywhere around me.

---

_"What defines us as humans?"_

_"Admitting that we're all instinctively fucked up."_

---

With a flick of a hand, I am submerged in red and glimpses. Glimpses into moving life. It never stops. No matter how much you want it to stop.

---

POUND.

POUND.

POUND.

Oh god, my head.

---

_Cramped inside that little booth, they both tried to hide their emotions. Stare straight ahead and slowly curve your mouth into a slight smirk. Back straight._

_3, 2, …_

_He looks over to her in a quick flash of adoration before he decides to tickle her right as the booth took their first photo. Laughter escaped and she came to the realization that she didn't mind at all._

_Poke. Jab. Laugh._

_Such a simple concept and cycle._

_Laugh till you can't, and you fall._

---

Symphony of liquid, chemicals, pans, metal.

Pieces of the past resurfacing itself.

Must reach the end of the symphony.

---

_Flash, flash, flash._

_Event of the year. Photographers, paparazzi from every major tabloid out there._

_He passed her while slightly grazing his hand over her exposed back before disappearing in the crowd again. Taboo of them to be seen together in public, but yet he risked it anyways._

_The next morning, a photo showed up in the society pages. A demure smirk on his face as he looked down at her just as his hand left her back. Her face was turned towards him with a bright smile. A quick flash and a split second later it disappeared; but the camera doesn't catch that, just the moment of contentment and happiness. That touch had sent shivers up her spine. How she loathed and hated him for it._

---

POUND.

POUND.

POUND.

Ugh… wtf is going on?

Sounds and voices drift in and out. Someone's tugging at my eyes. My head soon zones everything out and only focuses on some middle eastern instrument. Within you. Without you. A wave. Splash splash.

Screaming voices drift in and out through the music. Fuck the screaming. In. Out.

---

_His hand swipes hers into his palm; pulling her toward him as he secures an arm around her tiny shoulders. Laughter, adoration, lust enraptures them as they exit into the cool night air._

_Yellow Submarine._

---

"Tur…at…amn…zic…f…"

Stop the interruptions!

"Shut the fuck up. I'm trying to focus on the goddamn music here!!"

Oh god. Yelling is not good. I grab my forehead in pain.

POUND.

"…g… ryn…body… ve…ere…!!!"

Darkness within.

---

_Yell. Argue. Scream. Throw anything in sight. Struggle. Sex. Glow._

_It was always so simple with the both of them. The simplicity made her smile. A recurring cycle. A cycle of predictability and control._

---

"Kathryn…"

POUND. Pound. pound…

Coolness suddenly spread around my forehead and the burning slowed.

"Jesus… how fucking long have you been in here?"

I sat up a little while choosing not to open my eyes. Focus was not on my current menu and I'd prefer for it to stay that way for a while.

Pound…

Pressing my index fingers on my temple points and softly rubbing them, I began to recall some memory flashes.

Shots of alcohol.

Stench. Constant swearing.

Throw, kick, thrash.

Doorknob.

Exposure of photos.

Collapse.

A sniffle escaped before I could think and remember someone was in front of me, most likely watching my every move.

Lift one eye lid up. And the next.

A blond too-handsome-to-be-straight-especially-with-the-clothes met my eyes. Blurry but still distinctive.

Thank god. It was just Tuttle.

"Kathryn, what's going on? Why is Valmont's room in shambles? And why the fuck are you passed out in his darkroom? I've been trying to get a hold…"

"Could you slow the fuck down Blaine? If you haven't fucking noticed, I'm still nursing one hell of a hangover and your incessant questions aren't helping me get back to any sense of what the word lucid means. Jesus."

"Well forgive me if I'm concerned. I haven't been able to reach you for a long ass time Kathryn. You've completely dropped off the social radar. People have been wondering if you died or something…"

I groan and slap a hand over his mouth. When I can tell he was going to remain quiet, I withdraw my hand and do a "tone it down a little" hand gesture.

He sighes and examines me a little.

"Ok, how bout I help you up and get you to a bed? Grab some warm tea, some cookies for you and then you can tell me what the fuck's been going on. Sound good?"

I nod and he extends his arm out.

* * *

Sorry it took so long for me to get this out. College can do that to you. Anyways, enjoy. 

S: Leave something long this time. You know I love it when you say more than just "it was great". Come on, throw me a bone ;)


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4--

_Exhausted. Exhaustion had taken over his mind and body as he was sprawled on the living room couch._

_A slight pencil tip kept penetrating the back of his left eye as his head slightly twitched. Long photoshoots always burnt him out. Holding the camera, constantly focusing, and being creative for hours on end. The inside of his right palm was in a state of painful numbness._

_Tick. Tock._

_Click. Clack._

_He felt her presence loom over him after a few seconds of her shoes echoing through the room. Her breathing tickled his face. Freeze up. Pretend to be asleep. See what she does._

_One hand goes his chest. A leg swings over one of his and then the other. And the next second she was resting on him and breathing out a sigh of contentment._

_He turns his head ever so slightly and shifts his body to accommodate her tiny one. An arm drapes itself over her waist and her head nuzzles into his chest a little more._

It's funny how most of the photos you want to take are the ones that would ruin the element of the moment you want to record forever. And all you're left with is a ghost of a memory. I keep wanting to go back to her. Keep wanting to break my resolve. But my ego won't allow me to do so.

Goosebumps pop up on my arms despite the warm air around me. The past refuses to escape my mind.

Ring

Ring

I slowly pull my cell phone out of my bermuda shorts and look at the caller id in apprehension.

Blaine.

"What's up Tuttle?"

"Sebastian…"

Freeze.

"I'm not taking no for an answer. Meet me at your place in 10 minutes."

Click.

What. The. Hell.

Goddamn it! FUCKING HELL.

I got up in a fit and started swinging my arms in the air. Punching. Kicking. And I fall down onto the sand again after exhausting myself.

Burying my face into my hands, I scream in frustration. Goddamn bitch.

_Creak of the door._

_An asshole fucking her from behind as she moaned in pleasure._

_Watching it like a voyeur. Feeling perverted, tainted,_

_She told me she was fucking mine. After all the games, deaths, mazes._

I hesitated at the backdoor. My hand twitched at the thought of seeing her again. Then I felt it. Her presence. She pinned herself behind me and slipped her arm in between my side and arm, turned the doorknob, and opened it a few inches.

I closed my eyes and felt my left eye twitch before I lifted my arm over hers and slid into the house. Walking over to the kitchen counter, I thought of all the ways I could kill her right here with all the knives lying around. I turned around, leaned on the counter, and looked over at her.

Still fucking beautiful as ever. Goddamn her.

She closes the door gently and proceeds to lean on the other counter across from me.

"I want to explain."

"Well has it ever fucking occurred to you that I don't want to fucking hear it? You've made it perfectly clear to me Kathryn."

Her face twitched as she held herself off from an unknown emotion.

"Sebastian, can you just…"

"No, I'm done…"

"GODDAMN IT SEBASTIAN! Let me fucking talk! You have no fucking idea how long it's taken me to talk at all. Do you have any fucking idea how long I was completely coked out and in isolation from everything?! Six fucking months Sebastian. I didn't see anyone. I didn't eat. All I did was drink, take hits of cocaine, blackout, and re-expose film. Most of the time, I just blacked out. The only reason I'm standing here today is Blaine figured out a way to get in and caught me right before I completely OD'ed. You shut off your phone. Moved. Dropped off the face of my reality. And you didn't even hear the whole story. You just fucking left. God, I…"

Before she could finish, she slid down to the floor and I finally noticed how pale she had gotten. How her bones jutted out more, and how completely fragile her body had become.

"Kathryn…"

"NO. Let me finish. Look, I'm not the sappy kind of person. The ones that get written about in dramedies. The ironic bitch that lets her guard down for someone they deem worthy. We're one of a kind Sebastian. Fucked up people that can live with the other. We destroy lives, reputations. We've learned to work together. I'm accustomed to it. To share the afterglow of it with. I… Goddamn it. I feel so physically weak right now."

I knelt down in front of her and placed my hand over hers.

"Take your time. I'm not leaving."

A sudden numbness then slowly started seeping into the back of my brain. I removed my hand from her mouth and placed it on one my temples. A feeling of dizziness took over my senses and I fell from my kneeling position. She looked over at me in concern and reached out to me.

"Sebastian, are you ok?"

I groan in response and tried to focus on her face. The more I tried to focus on her, the more she blurred.

What the hell was going on?

I tried to get up and started grabbing at any kitchen drawer handles I could get a hold of.

Collapse.

"Kathryn… I…"

With one more spin of the mind, my vision of her completely blurred up and all I was left with was darkness.

_The cool glass alleviated the heat radiating around me. Sweat. That's all I could smell. Moving sex._

_Sip. Instant relief. The liquid slipped down my throat like a snake._

_The club beat pounded through the air like a trance and my head involuntarily started bouncing to it._

_A hand slipped its way around my waist and turned me around._

_"Hey stranger."_

_"Hey sis."_

_I smirk as she pouts at this term of endearment._

_"You know I haaatteee you calling me that in public."_

_I laugh easily and loudly while she continued pouting._

_"Kathryn, no one is going to hear us. Have you noticed how fucking loud it is in here?"_

_"Still…"_

_"You're cute when you're drunk. You lose all control of what you say. Come on. Let's dance. I can think of a few positions we haven't tried on the dance floor that we can one-up people with."_

_She smirks at this and pulls me toward the bouncing swirls of bodies until we were right in the middle of everything._

* * *

Wow, that was quick of me. Enjoy.

S: Kindred spirit? Dear god.


	5. Chapter 5

**I do not own Cruel Intentions.**

Chapter 5--

A succession of moving film reels itself around my vision as I slightly attempt to grasp a hold of something solid. Anything. Blue and red silhouettes dance and dance and dance until the pounding elevates in my ears.

"Hey."

As my eyes starts to slowly focus in on my surroundings, I see her sitting rigidly before me with a look of concern. That stress line on her forehead has become more prominent since I've last seen her.

She holds a glass of water towards me and I sit up in response.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. Are you on drugs or something?"

"I did take some Mucinex not too long ago that didn't really kick in."

She looks away from my gaze and I take tiny sips from the glass she thrusted towards me.

"You worried me."

Any remaining fuzziness I had immediately dissipated.

"Like you give a fuck."

Her eyes blazed as she fixed her gaze on me.

"Would I have stayed with you so long if I didn't?"

"Pfft… like it ever really meant anything to you?"

"How could you possibly…"

"How could I? That's funny. It really is Kathryn. I'm not the one who was caught getting my ass slammed into from behind by some asshole."

She recoils.

There's a long moment of silence.

"It didn't fucking mean anything. I was doing it…"

"Who the fuck are we right now? We sound like a fucking type-cast cliché couple on some stupid low-rent movie. How could you? I did it for blah blah blah reason. Well I don't fucking give a shit. What's done is done. You chose your path and now I've chosen mine. Now please get your sluttied up pussy out of my house before I force it out."

With that, I stand and storm out.

Before I could get to the door of my study, she yanks me around, crashes into me and slams her lips onto mine, prying my mouth open. One of her hands grabs onto my cock and starts pumping it ferociously and I can't help being turned on. She moves from my mouth and latches onto my ear as I gasp for air.

"Sebastian…" she raspily whispers, "Are you sure you want this pussy…" she then grabs one of my hands and slips it up her dress until I'm touching her and my hand is covered with her cum, "out of your house?"

Her tongue swirls in and out of my head until I've lost all composure and control.

"Do you want this _slut_ to stop?"

All words have left me.

"Just say the word Sebastian and I'll leave."

I moan in desperation as her hand leaves my dick.

"No, don't. Stay. Please."

And suddenly, I am on the floor in pain as her knee kicks me in the groin.

"What the fuck!" I scream, as my eyes slam shut with a sliver of tears springing up.

I can't see her face but I can feel the anger radiating off her body.

"Funny because I was thinking the same thing. You're going to fucking throw away our entire history together over one misunderstanding."

She suddenly walked closer to me and before any of the pain could subside, she's kicking me in rapid fire until I'm groaning all the more.

"I was letting him fuck me so I could get him to drop the fucking scandal he had on us. Remember the deal that fell through that I was talking about? I was securing our reputations. But you didn't even talk to me about what you saw. You just reacted on impulse. So what the fuck Sebastian. What the fuck. I couldn't have chosen better words myself. I wasted away in agony for six fucking months over your stupid ass."

My whole body shakes from the pain as I try to crawl back up.

Another kick and I'm down.

I hear her heels click and clack away and return moments later.

"No. You're not getting up so easily. You're staying on the ground until I am fucking done with you."

I feel her grab at my wrists then, drag me a few inches, and suddenly cold metal snaps around my freedom.

"I'm not going to make this pleasant for you Valmont." I hear her hiss in my ear.

My shorts rip open and she grabs me, slips a condom on and takes me. She goes in the complete opposite direction of our usual speeds, slowly torturing me into oblivion. I glance up at her face and see a coldness she reserves only for the weak. I look away and she hits the side of my face, forcing my head back as she fucks me.

"No, I need you to see this. Do you see what you've turned me into? I'm a fucking shell that just likes to fuck you Sebastian. There aren't emotions when I cum. I don't fucking feel anything. Can you feel it?"

"And you don't think I've been in pain? You couldn't possibly underst…"

"Like hell you know what I went through. You've been lounging around this house, soaking in the sun as I can see from your tan, and probably slapping yourself on the back for the guts to walk out on me. Well you haven't proven shit except that you're a fucking pussy and run at the first sign of fire."

My mouth opens to respond when she grabs my balls with her nails and digs into them until I'm screaming for mercy.

"I fucking told you I wasn't going to make this pleasant for you."

My head is ringing as the rattles from the handcuffs around my wrists as I feel the imprints of half moons form with the increasing pressure.

Her mouth breathes steam into my ears as they pulse and she hisses like a snake.

"Do you like that Sebastian?" she continues as her nails dig in deeper.

I almost miss the words as the pain evolves into a monster clawing away at my eyes.

Her other hand pries one of my eyes open and forces me to stare into hers. She is red. Whatever the element of that color is, she embodies it at that moment and everything flashes before me.

---

When I awake later with the sky covered in velvet, I look left and right in confusion. There are scratches all over my body, my hands are still handcuffed to the door and I begin to feel the weight of something on my chest.

Minutes later, I am sitting naked in my hallway staring at photographs I thought were burned forever. But the last one is the one I stare at.

A grainy, out of focus, black and white portrait of her. _Falter and crumble._

My right eye cannot stop twitching.

* * *

Review. Or not. Whatever. I frankly don't care anymore.

S: My writing has completely died off. Kindred spirit no more.


	6. Chapter 6

I do not own Cruel Intentions.

* * *

**Chapter 6**--

Tap. Tap. Tap.

My fingernails hit the porcelain in a drumming fashion as I stare straight ahead.

The water scalds me as I remain still.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The knob keeps a slight looseness to it from where I left it.

Drip. Hit the surface. Ripple.

The scalding water is up to my neck.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I move my head upwards to stare at the ceiling and then proceed to close my eyes.

Drip. Time will pause. My lungs will start to release. My muscles will begin to unloosen themselves and then…

Drip. I suck in a breath. The air constricts around me. A hand grips the side of the tub.

Drip. My eyes flash open in a moment of insanity. A claw abruptly shuts off the knob all the way.

A primal cry echoes somewhere. I sit and breathe out.

Descent.

The water remains hot. It continues to burn.

The marble around me melts. White replaces red and fits itself around my watered down skin.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I take the water bong that had been next to the tapping points and grip its neck.

Put the weed where it belongs.

Bring the bong over the water level and place the opening to my mouth.

Stare down at the green.

Pick up the lighter.

Light.

Burn.

Inhale.

Hello, god. How are you today?

--

She lay there as the music envelops her mind.

Immobile.

Earth intruders. Earth intruders. Earth intruders.

He sits there and stares at her mouth.

At the cherry red.

His gaze slowly moves upwards toward her nose.

Then her forehead.

Her temples.

The hollows of her ears.

Her neck.

Slides down to her shoulders.

Her upper arms down to the fingertips of her hands.

An explosion at the very center of her being.

We are the earth intruders.

Her legs go limp.

Her toes go numb.

His lips imagine grazing every point of her body where the smoke goes. Where the green goes. Where his lips can't touch.

"Sebastian, I don't care about anything. About anyone. Is that disturbing?"

"What do you care about then?"

"Why do I have to care about anything?"

"I don't know."

A body involuntarily shivers. It cannot be helped.

--

Half of her body is underwater. Half of his body is above the surface.

She focuses on the liquid licking her body. He focuses on breathing air.

"What do you think Kathryn? Is the sun white or yellow?"

"Does it matter?"

"I don't know. I'm curious to know what color is the source that blinds me."

"Well what color is your flash when it goes off? Because all I ever see is a blinding white. But isn't it supposed to be yellow?"

"Maybe it's both then."

His arm eventually grazes her arm. Her body eventually floats away from touch.

His eyes shut away from the light. Her eyes continue staring at the blue.

"Yeah, maybe."

Their bodies continue floating as if that's all they were ever intended to do.

--

The water is turning cool to my skin. I move forward toward the drain and pull the stopper up.

The water begins to move down toward the void.

Dissipate, millimeter by millimeter.

Up goes the…

Goosebumps.

Giggle.

My neck tenses.

Centimeter by centimeter.

"I care about you."

I am met by dead air.

Inch by inch.

"It's yellow, it's just so bright and blinding that it disguises itself as white."

Inches by inches.

Cords fly up and down the instrument in the background.

Become Corpses. Corpses.

Let me push. Push.

I am naked in an empty tub and tears begin to form as the goosebumps begin to get unbearable. The numbness leaves my toes. My shoulder blades and shoulders tense up. I slam my eyes shut and the knuckles of my hands push and push and push. My vision gets taken hold by moving patterns. Black and white. Swirls. All I see is what you usually see in a trippy portrait. Layers and layers of moving swirls taking different forms attacking my irises. I am penetrated by a monster.

A slick liquid hits my fingers.

I blink.

I stare at the melted marble. At the melted walls around me.

--

Does she hate him?

"Do you hate me?"

Does he hate her?

"Do you hate me?"

Her hands fly out. His body flies forward.

Lips meet lips.

Claw meets claw.

Rip meets rip.

Damage meets damage.

--

I climb out of the tub and dry myself. And with a towel locked into place around my body, I open the shower door, turn the knob all the way to hot and close the door. I land on the floor, grab the bong again, pack it again, mouth to mouth, light, burn, inhale. The smoke refills my lungs and the euphoria returns. My brain begins to get massaged. My ears get a shock of pain. And the door opens.

"What are you doing?"

"Are you blind or have you turned into a complete moron?"

His eyes close. His jaw tightens.

"Well?"

He breathes out deeply. His shoulders slump.

"I'm tired Kathryn."

"And I'm done trying Sebastian."

I slump against the wall and lean my head back when I turn away from him. The door closes and locks.

He steps towards me. I let him.

"I'm here."

"I'm not. I'm stoned."

He chuckles. I giggle.

Smoke takes over. It drifts over the air.

Declare. Independence.

Protect. Your language.

"Well, fine then."

He sighs and then continues.

"I'm here and you're stoned."

He slumps down the wall opposite me, spreads his legs next to mine and looks at me.

"Might as well give me that bong while I'm here. Catch me up."

I smirk. He smirks.

"We're not ok Valmont."

"Never said we were Merteuil."

I place the opening to my mouth again and lift my hand with the lighter over the chronic.

"Hey!" He cries to me indignantly.

I light up.

Burn.

Inhale.

Run around your own circles until you are dizzy with glee.

He mutters, "Selfish bitch" as I breathe out.

The smoke wispily slaps his face.

"Fucking bastard."

I hold out the bong and lighter. He reaches out and takes it.

He holds the lighter like a gun. The fire hits the weed resembling a trigger going off.

"I taught you well."

The smoke winds itself around the insides. He inhales. His eyes start glazing over. The tips of his ears momentarily turn pink before going back to normal. He takes it out. Sucks in the smoke like air. And slowly blows out to me.

He smirks before answering, "Yes, you did."

"You should know I'm getting wet."

His smirk grows even more, "You never could fuck me though when you were stoned."

I scoff. "I could never fuck you because you were always limp."

"I can't help it if someone's a stoner and I'm a lightweight," He answers me before putting the opening to his mouth again.

I propel my upper body off the wall and grab the bong away from him.

"No more for you."

"I had one hit. Give it back you little cunt."

"Smooth Valmont," I reply before gripping the neck of the bong more firmly.

He glares and tries to control his anger.

Breathe in and out Valmont. You're going to need it.

"I'm sorry."

There's something in the way that he says this that causes me to feel that it's in more ways than one. I can't really read his eyes very well with the thick fog over us.

I light up again before thinking any longer and inhale some more of that green to replace the red I left behind next to a dead carcass.

"Here," I hand it to him, "Have the rest. I'm not up for fucking you anyways."

He takes it. "Good. Didn't need your walls squeezing the blood out of my brain any more than it already has anyways."

The explosion happens again. My blood flows toward my fingertips again. My toes curl and go numb.

I slowly and deeply breathe out as my head lolls around on the wall. I close my eyes and let it be.

I hear him breathing, sucking in the smoke, blowing by the current hitting my facial points. I don't know how long I sit there spacing out while he does it repeatedly.

"Fuck. I'm losing control already. How much have you had?"

I bite the lower left corner of my lip for a few seconds or maybe longer and slowly release it. All I focus on is breathing in and out. Letting the heat take over. Letting the smoke choke my body.

"I had five bowls with hash."

Even in this state, I can sense his eyes get slightly bigger momentarily before shaking his head. He never could believe my intakes.

"Fuck," He chuckles out.

I slump more down the wall as I lean on the tub next to me.

I hear him shift, a shuffle, a door open, a layer of sound disappearing, and said door closing.

"Fuck, it's hot in here." He raspily breathes out.

I giggle into the porcelain and it overtakes my lungs. I don't know how long I giggle but later I start to feel my cheeks begin to burn. My jaw starts to tighten. The inner muscles of my mouth locks itself and shoots a pain into my brain. I slowly move my hand up from my lap and clamp it over the sound of my giggles.

Eventually my giggles die down. Eventually they get taken over again by euphoria.

The fog dies down slightly and I see Sebastian staring at me.

I stare back.

"I'm tired Kathryn," He whispers to me in broken syllables.

"So am I Sebastian. I'm exhausted."

I notice the bags underneath his eyes just then.

We stare and stare and stare.

I fight off the burning in my eyes. I fight off my eyelids trying to flutter over my vision. And I can tell by staring at his eyes, that he's doing the same.

Time becomes the smoke in the room. Becomes indiscernible.

And I don't know who loses the fight first.

But it doesn't matter because blackness becomes us.

It is a snapshot that evaporates without anyone's control in play.

--


	7. Chapter 7

The mandatory note: I do not own Cruel Intentions.

And the memo: A part of this story was written by an amazing, brilliant, oh so talented writer who wishes to remain nameless. But I'm sure you all can figure it out if you have half a brain. -wink-

* * *

**Chapter 7**

A tunnel of air was being cut off second by second. Someone was grasping for oxygen, for anything, anything that could cause the unbearable squeezing in their brain to stop.

Let me sodomize you.

Let me rip you a new asshole, how fitting it will be. Let me peel your skin, strip by strip. Let me hear your voice your sorrysorrysorryI'mnevergoingtodoitagain. I will listen to it like it's the best song I've ever heard. Let me see your veins bones muscles let me feel your blood let me touch it let me realize how cold it is.

Someone was slowly heading toward the light.

And it didn't matter. It didn't matter because this someone was a carbon copy. Someone unreal. Someone who wasn't even anyone. Just a body that liked to mistake itself as a chameleon. A chameleon which was starting to have an outline of white fingers seared onto their skin.

On the bed:

You. Thrashing alarmed eyes wide body sweating. Lady Sodomizer, Lady Silly Sodomizer your hair in clumps your mouth gasping panting the joy you give me knows no boundaries at this moment, you've no idea.

Dildo in hand, I approach you. I like how it feels. The plastic protruded veins seem to throb. I stroke your hair, whisper sweet things so unbecoming of me, as though we were really lovers.

The source of these white fingers heard something in the distance. A gasp. And then a harder gasp. And then some thing's hardest gasp. The chameleon's fingertips were losing blood. And it didn't matter.

Why is it so strange? Why can't I remember any names?

A voice sounded off in the distance. Barely. Barely there even. But it reaches the almost invisible ears.

Shh,

And:

Don't you look so pretty today, Lady Sodomizer, Lady Violator.

You whimper your voice sounds so tiny teeny tiny I want to pinch your vocal cords and listen to your voice go higher higher higher until I damage it completely until I spare everybody else from listening to your goddamn voice.

Don't cry, please don't cry. Lady Blue Eyes, Lady Innocent.

Let go. Let go. Please. Let go.

Why?

Please just let go?

The snapshot clicks. And then…

Then everything snaps back into place. Without any anesthesia. It just does. The blur just clears up. The cloud lifts. And you remember. The source of those white fingers are yours. And you remember how those imprints turned bright red when you let go of their neck. And you remember how those big blue eyes slowly started losing its vulnerability. How those eyes with its own etchings in their own irises began clouding over with relief and yours turned cold.

What did I do tell me what I did wrong please Kathryn please.

Crying weeping poor baby poor dear. Aren't you just darling, such a little girl. So adorable, so frail, so inadequate.

My cheek against yours, hair against yours, I rub my skin against yours. I lick your sweaty face, tasting you. How bland.

Three seconds.

One.

The chameleon gasps for air.

Two.

The chameleon is relieved.

Three.

The chameleon lives again.

And it ends in a flash.

Your hand twitches with veins from another being, with overflowed rage before it plunges the knife it was holding right into the chameleon's gut. The chameleon is bleeding. Drenched with red down its own face. It collapses forward toward you. Disgusted, you move out of the way and let it fall. Let it fall like a tree falls in a forest with no one to hear it falling. With no one to see it either. Because technically the tree isn't really there. It was never really a tree. It just liked to pretend to be one. What this fallen tree really was, was a mirror that liked to bask in the glow of the sun. In the rays that came its way because of the tree's great delusions. And you wait another second.

You struggle, wrists and ankles chafed from the ropes the bed jerks as though alive. Pink cheeks, pink face, ripe for biting ripe for eating let me take your head from your body like I'm picking a fruit.

My nails scratching your chest downwards downwards. My plastic friend, Mr. Pleasure Giver, Mr. Weapon of Choice, he seems to come alive in my other hand.

My teeth nibbling your earlobe every breath out of my mouth is a request: Lady Sodomizer, cry louder louder do it louder it's not enough it's never enough.

You wait for the rage to hit full force again in your body before you stab the gleaming red knife into the tree's back. Again and again and again.

You yelp. The pain oh the pain please stop it please oh god please.

Don't you know don't you know anything whatsoever, Lady Halloween Mask, Lady Sweaty Face?

Let me educate you. Let me show you.

Mr. Weapon of Choice. Inside you. Not there, but there. There. There. Where it hurts the most.

Oh god god god

Because this is who you are. You are fucked up. You are cold-blooded.

You do not hold back because castration in this scenario is nothing to you. It only seems fitting.

The agony in your voice! Yes, Yes, Yes louder do it louder you wanted this you wanted this you know it you had it coming you know it!

In and out, in and out, Mr. Pleasure Giver, Mr. Pain Inducer.

You shove the side of the tree with its tainted bark over until you see your target. The tree is rustling, twitching in agony. Carving out its center while a continuous scream sounds off far far away, all you feel is a cold draft in your veins.

My teeth biting your ear. Harder harder.

More more more Mr. Weapon of Choice is bleeding, only not really. It isn't his blood, is it?

Stop it oh god please stop it sorrysorrysorry Kathryn oh god please.

But I don't stop. I can't stop.

You are… no… correction. I.

I cannot spare those who delude themselves into thinking they are something they are not. Into thinking that imitation is the best form of flattery.

Because really. Really, it's a slap in the face. And when someone slaps me in the face. I consider it an invitation to a duel they would never be ready for.

I feel nothing when the chameleon on the floor dripping red reverts back to its original self.

There. I have let you go. Do you feel better? Have fun being someone's toy in hell.

Doesn't feel good, does it?

How did you think it was going to feel?

--

The fog inverts itself and lands me back on the floor of Kathryn's bathroom. Back onto solid ground where I can feel lucidity coming back full force. Where there is a dead ringing in my ears and a throbbing in my temples. For a second there is no sound and I turn and see a mouth moving.

"So that's what happened?"

I nod my head.

"Does Kathryn remember?"

We both glanced over at her sleeping form.

"I haven't told her but I wouldn't put it past her either way."

"The little princess does like to fuck with our heads doesn't she?"

I smirk at this. Yes she does.

"I wonder where she gets all her help from." I quip.

"And where exactly do you get all your help from Valmont? Don't kick the help for assisting others. It's not my fault the two of you are so fucked up and always call to get rid of the carnage."

Blaine chuckles from his position on the floor and places his left arm onto the toilet seat cover before resting his head on it. Looking at me sideways, he sighs.

"Don't you two ever get tired of fucking each other over? And let's not even get into the people that fall prey around the both of you."

I tuck a fluffy towel down from a handle above me and throw it on the floor. Lying my body down and moving until my head settled comfortably on the towel, I prop my right leg up in an A-form. I decide to wait a while before answering. Closing my eyes for just a second.

Breathing fills the silence.

The constant ringing continues piercing all my brain cells and I am taken back. Silhouette meets silhouette in the dead of night. One slumps forward and drops something that clunks loudly on the floor. And there is a moment, a moment where the fire within their souls have simmered down to ashes. And in its place an ache that cannot be kneaded.

"It's not that we don't get tired Blaine. It's just in our natures."

"You know eventually, you two will end up killing each other."

I mull over this. Not exactly new information, but I try to digest it differently all the same.

And then…

I smile because I can't help it.

"Eventually."

Blaine chuckles and shakes his head.

"And eventually one day, I am going to walk in on you two fucking each other like the true fags you are."

We turn to see Kathryn stirring and quirking an eyebrow at us with a smirk on her face.

"How long have you two been sitting around here?"

I opened my mouth to retort when she holds up a hand.

"Spare me. My ass hurts from falling asleep in this position. I need to get to bed."

My eyes gleam with mischief and she notices before kicking my head that happened to be near her foot.

"Ow, you fucking bitch!"

She rolls her eyes and pushes herself up. Blaine goes and helps her while I cradle my now bruising head. Damn her and her violent tendencies.

--

_Review if you have the balls. If not, hope you had fun anyways._


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